


Length, Breadth, Thickness, and Duration

by mostlyharmless



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Animal Traits, Cloaca, Davesprite Has A Cloaca, F/M, Homestuck Kink Meme, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, Tail Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlyharmless/pseuds/mostlyharmless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade and Davesprite perform rigorous experimentation as to whether Davesprite still has the ability to get his rocks off... without his rocks. It's for science!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Length, Breadth, Thickness, and Duration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rikudera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rikudera/gifts).



> Happy birthday, RD! You are an awesome person and an awesome friend. I hope this is something like you wanted ;) 
> 
> This story was written for a kinkmeme prompt by RD that drew ideas from [this art by ket3](http://nsfwcourier.tumblr.com/post/127707495588/hilarious-war-ket3-you-guys-seem-to-love), and it is porn. VERY PORN. Please pay attention to the tags!! No ages are mentioned, but I tagged it as underage to be safe.

"So I've been thinking," you say, drawing back from a kiss, "and I have a new theory about the sex thing!" You plant another smooch on Davesprite's mouth, but his lips are already twisting under yours.

You pull back to pout while he groans and throws an arm over his eyes.

"Yeah well I have a theory too. My theory is that no."

"Is that a 'no and I really mean no because you are making me uncomfortable, Harley', or a 'no but not really, I'm just a silly grumble-bum'?" He just groans again, arm still pressed over his eyes. "...Break time?"

He grunts, so you swing one leg back over his tail and slide down next to him instead, minding his wing on that side. You cuddle into his ruff, and after a beat he brings his hand to yours. The contrasting colours of your laced fingers holds your attention for a moment, then you squeeze. He squeezes back.

"Look, I don't really care anyway," he starts, but you cut him off.

"You fibber," you say, firmly. "You so do. Besides, you're allowed to care? I care." Maybe that was the wrong thing to say—he goes a little rigid and then sits up, dislodging you. You sit up too. "Nooooo! You know what I mean! I mean that you are my super hot boyfriend and I want to do sexy things with you, so long as you want it too..."

"We do plenty of sexy things," he mumbles, but he moves his shades from the mattress to the floor and shuffles around so that the front coil of his tail presses into your knees.

"Yeah," you say softly, taking his hands and running your thumbs over the soft scales on his wrists. "And don't get me wrong, I really, um," oh no, your face is getting warm, "enjoy what we've been doing."

He gives a silly cool dude nod that makes you smile. "That was not even under question. The chicks all cream when this motherfucking lovebird is in the house."

"Stop, jeez!" you laugh, but it's true. You squeeze his hands again and his shoulders duck a little. "Yeah, you spoil me rotten. Is it so bad that I want to make it good for you, too?"

"It's already good for me—"

You smooch him again to cut off what was probably going to turn into a metaphor about white soccer moms and Latin American superfoods, if your intuition is correct. "Yep! I'm not fishing for compliments. The fact is, though, that you haven't… well, you've never…"

You stumble over whether to phrase it clinically or politely, but Davesprite knows exactly what you mean and lets you off the hook. He pulls his hands back to press the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I told you, I don't even know if I can, anymore," he says, not looking at you.

"And if you really are honestly, truly, cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die okay with that then I promise I'll drop it!"

"No, I…" His wings resettle nervously. "I dunno. I think about it, I guess."

The way that his ears start glowing a deeper shade of orange lets you know that must be the understatement of the century, like you have been suspecting for a while, so you decide to push on after all.

"Then why don't we try and see? We could solve it, I mean, what if it's just because something is getting in the way?"

"More like a lack of something is getting in the way," he says, the thickest coil of his tail wrinkling the sheets as it tightens a little.

"Well see, that's where my new theory comes in!"

You decaptchalogue your most recent Alchemiter experiment onto the bed between you.

"Oh hell no," he says. "I am not wearing that thing."

'That thing' is a glittery neon pink dildo fixed into a black nylon harness that wouldn't look that out of place in an army surplus catalogue, you think. The harness, not the dildo!

"Well that's good, because I wasn't going to ask you to!" you say, and you poke out your tongue. Whoops. You had planned to be so much more romantic about asking!

Davesprite's eyebrows shoot up. His mouth opens, then shuts with a click. His cheeks are absolutely _glowing_. 

"We don't have to if you don't want to," you assure him, while he stares at the dildo.

You're pretty sure you've seen something like a vent on him, down past the vestiges of his hipbones, which is the basis for the theory you'd like to test. He's pretty blasé about his birdy traits, but then again, for all you've done together so far, he's never really given you a chance to let your hands wander into the zone of his body where genitals generally go. And if you're right and he does have something like that, there must be a reason he hasn't figured out whether or not he can orgasm on his own—the claws could definitely be an issue, but you also know from personal experience that he is very creative with his tail. 

But judging from how he can't take his eyes off the dildo, you are pretty sure your idea is being well received. You take a moment to fistpump in your heart. Yessssss.

You give a little cough, and his eyes snap to you. "What?"

"I said, we don't have to if you don't want to…"

"Uh. Nobody is saying that yet." You can't wipe the huge grin off your face. "Maybe I need to know more about this theory of yours before I sign away my cherry like a strapped virgin with a craigslist account."

"First of all, oral sex is sex, I don't care what John says, and we are not having this argument again. Second of all, I would love to tell you about my theory!"

You shift the dildo, and flop down onto your side. You don't even have to tug his sleeve before he's shifting down, too, tail looping over your legs.

"Comfy?" you ask, giggling. He might still be a little awkward when you initiate cuddlepiles, but he's come such a long way.

"Yeah," he says. His hand comes up tentatively to scritch your ear, and you basically just want to dissolve into warm-fuzzies. But no! You had a goal!

"Okay then. Basically, my theory is that you probably can, um."

"Have a little death? Get my bell rung? Make it over the—"

"Yeah!! Those things. You probably can, since I thiiiink you do have, um, equipment. Even if it's not what you were used to." He doesn't react visibly, but you give his his neck ruff a stroke anyway. "So if you've got that, then it stands to reason that it would do some version of the Thing, that's all."

He is quiet for a moment. Then he sighs. "I just wish I could give you more normal awkward sexual fumblings."

You kiss his jaw, below his ear, and flick your own ear against his fingers. "I'm not exactly normal, myself! I like you just the way you are. In fact, I think all this is super fun. And you know what? If it doesn't work, I can even go back to the drawing board! It doesn't have to go perfectly the first time. In fact, if we don't try multiple times, how can I be sure of my data?"

"So you're saying if this is a terrible train wreck, that's a good thing."

"Yep!! It's for science! So, you up for an experiment?"

He makes a soft sound deep in his chest that could nearly be a laugh, and you kiss his cheek again, feeling restless. All this sex talk has had you on edge for a while now!

But before you can catch his mouth, you catch sight of the dildo hanging above your face, suspended by the harness from the end of his tail.

"Where did you even get this?"

You sit up and grab it. "I made it with the Alchemiter, of course!"

"Yeah, but what the hell did you make it from?"

This makes you pause a little. Cards you made being sneaky on certain planets a while ago, but that's private! "The subject knowing such information is a variable that we are not testing for in this experiment!"

His mouth quirks in a smile and you lean down to kiss him again.

This is one thing you have down to an art. In the beginning it was a little hard—you had been awkward moving around his huge wings, and he had been awkward moving around your huge teeth—but it was still great. And now it's wonderful.

He rolls you over so he's on top, his wings spread slightly on some instinct to balance him.

You open up a little and catch his bottom lip lightly, before pressing in tight and letting his tongue push into your mouth. He tastes like nothing, just like he smells like nothing, but you hardly notice it any more. The slide of his tongue against yours sends heat zinging right down between your legs.

You pull back to breathe and he gives you a closed-mouthed kiss instead, which flows into a kiss to your jaw, and then your neck. He pauses.

"You can start getting the party happening, if you, uh, mm."

"Hell. Yes," you stage whisper.

Pulling him back for another kiss is so easy. He runs his tongue along the bow of your lip, and you let your mouth fall open slightly so he can do what he likes. You have other things to concentrate on right now.

You slide your hands up his back as he plucks little kisses, then drag them down again harder as he presses his mouth firmly into you. You feel so in synch.

Thumbs resting on his hipbones, you try to speak as he chases your lips. "I'm going in now!"

"Cleared to land, space cowgirl," he says, clearly having found his bravado again. You giggle into his mouth.

He rests his chin against your shoulder, his face in your hair and his tail curling all over your legs and the bed.

You slide one hand down, following his hipbones down. With your fingertips you map the vee of skin there, the edges where it blends into a frictionless sprite tail, the slight curves of his half-finished groin muscles, and at the apex of that vee—the small, subtle tuck of an opening in his skin. Davesprite huffs a shaky breath into your hair when you rub your finger across it.

His wings are held at stiff angles above you. Your wrist already sort of hurts from the angle. But there's something fragile in the air as you touch this soft place, and you can hardly dare breathe in case it shatters.

He sighs again as you continue to rub him, and then suddenly your fingers are slipping a little easier. You try to push him back a little so you can see better, but he is heavy, and his tail curls around your wrist like he doesn't want you to move.

"Is this normal?" you ask.

He snorts. "I have no fucking clue. It's not like I ever—ah." His voice cuts off just as it begins to get shrill and birdlike. Your heart pounds.

"Does it feel good?"

"Do we have to talk all through this?"

You mock-gasp. "Never thought I'd hear _you_ say that!"

He makes a weird tickly snort against your neck and you giggle. The atmosphere from before is definitely gone, but you decide quickly that you like this—him wiggling and heavy and scraping your hair out of his face and death-squeezing your wrist in place—much better.

You slick up two fingers as best you can, and listen to the sounds bleeding into his breathing as you play with his hole.

"Observations so far," you say, and wow, is that your voice? "This doesn't seem to be one hundred percent avian. I think if it were, it wouldn't be lubricating like this, and maybe you would be done already?"

"Well halle-fuckin-lujah," he pants. "Can you put something in already?"

"Mm," you say, slipping one finger in easily. "Definitely feels more familiar than I was expecting from the outside."

He whines in a not-quite-human register and you feel his inner muscles flutter. Wow.

You push in as deep as you can go, your knuckles getting slippery, and then you pull back to try a little thrust. You jab something fleshy that you had somehow slid over before, and before you know it he is hissing right in your ear, and your wet hand is cold in the air.

"Sorry, sorry," you realise you are both saying at the same time, him relaxing his grip on your wrist and you pressing your palm flat over his poor junk like you are trying to console it. Then you laugh together.

"New observation?" he says, through his cute choked huffs.

"Yes. Aim up."

"I regret every 'wrong hole' joke I've ever made," he says, and you lick his mouth until he sucks your tongue into a kiss.

"Can I try again?" you ask when you draw back, and he answers with a nudge from his tail and captures your mouth again.

You work two fingers into him this time, slowly trying to open him up. It's easier now you know how to angle it, and soon you are pushing three in and out steadily, feeling the way he tightens and clutches your fingers. His kisses are getting wet and messy, and when he draws back to breathe you hear a rattle in his panting. Your panties are sticking to you.

"Good?"

"Fuck yeah. You're playing me like a goddamn flute."

"I hope you meant I'm doing a good job and didn't know I actually suck at the flute," you say, without slowing your hand.

"Oh. Fuck," he says, awkwardly. "You're playing me like a bass? Your skills are totally mad—"

"I'm just 'playin', cool dude," you say, which makes him groan.

"I can hear the shades emoji in your voice when you say that," he complains, and really, if he is comfortable enough to complain with three fingers buried in him then he is probably ready for phase two!

"Shoosh and listen for a minute. Do you still want to go all the way?"

"...Do you?"

"Of course!!"

"...How do you want me?"

You squeal and kiss his cheek until he moves his head and you can smooch his mouth too.

"Okay! Just get comfy however you like, and I'll get strapped up!"

He floats up off you so you can squirm up and strip off and deal with the dildo. You may have already practiced putting it on! You may have practiced some other things with it on. You may have been thinking about this for a while. You are so pumped, and the fact that you can tell how eager he is too, underneath his shell, is making you nearly quiver with excitement. You toe your soaked panties under the bed.

"How is this so sexy," he says, watching you adjust the straps as you stand naked by the bed, and you smile, your face feeling warm.

You drag your hand up the pink cock between your legs, and Davesprite swears quietly. You understand. You are so unbelievably wet.

Your ears perk up, you'd forgotten something! You think, and reach, and then a bottle of baby oil drops down onto the sheets with a green crackle.

"Uh, no," says Davesprite. He knocks it off the side of the bed with a sweep of his tail. "I'm good to go."

You put your hands on your hips, which has the side effect of making your cock wobble. "I don't want to hurt you because you are being a macho baby!"

"Oh man, don't make me picture macho babies, I really will dry up. Look, I'm fine."

You look. He is reclining against the pillows, his shirt discarded somewhere and his tail flat on the bed. His junk has gone puffy and bright, the whole area now standing out from his body, the opening offering a dark peek of his insides. Everything is smeared liberally with neon orange slick, which is also now drooling out of him slow and thick. You swallow.

"All right," you say. "You want to just, do it like this?"

His face seems to glow a little brighter. "Um, yeah. I'm good right here."

You smile, and crawl back onto the bed to straddle his tail.

"Can I…?"

"All yours," he says, and you push your fingers back inside him, getting them nice and wet before pulling them out and giving your cock a thorough tug. You do this a few times, enjoying the way his abs twitch every time you push into him. It's so easy, now.

"Come on," he says, raspy, and you shiver.

You lean forward to kiss him, and then brace one hand on the bed by his side and shift your hips until you are lined up. It's a little awkward, but he pushes your sweaty hair away from your face and mumbles disjointedly about how sexy you are, and oh god, you are absolutely aching.

He doesn't stop babbling as you guide the head of your cock inside him, though his breath hitches with every push of your hips. You go slowly, making sure you have the angle, and then you stop.

"Status report?"

"Green, green, green," he groans, and you pull your other hand out from between you to brace yourself better.

He leans up to quickly peck you on the lips, and then he lies back and lets you figure out your hips. You have to work hard to move smoothly. Not only are you not used to using your muscles like this, you also have to resist following the quick-jabby-movement instincts that are bubbling up from the same place that makes your ears twitch.

And then you work out how to get the base of the dildo to grind into your clit with each push.

You drop your face and whuffle into Davesprite's neck. You feel slick and sweaty and electric. You can't feel the heat of his insides, but you can feel how easily your cock penetrates him. You can feel the prickle of his rough hands against your bicep, your breast. He gasps, and you speed up, and he gasps again, nearly sobs. You pick up speed, and you are rewarded with the crack in his voice, a moan that ends in a harsh caw.

God, your body is aching, hips straining, heels of your palms stiff from taking your weight, your clit is throbbing, you feel everything winding so tight. You pant and whine and grind down.

"A-ah, you, you sound so hot, Jade, I wanna, wanna bottle you, fuck, a-a-aah!"

You squeeze your eyes shut tight and feel yourself start to come, feeling every one of his unrestrained high noises like a jolt to the tight ball of pleasure unwinding. Your hips stop, buried deep inside him, and you grind down, gasping wetly as the shockwaves overwhelm you, your empty pussy clenching on nothing.

"Did you come?" he's asking. "Jade, Jade, did you really? Oh fuck."

"Yeah," you say, still shivering. "Are you close?"

"I don't know," he says. "It all feels so different, I. Jade, just, please."

You pull out of him and, giving in to your instincts, roll him over onto his front. You are going to blow your boyfriend's mind. You also know from experience that if you chase another orgasm now, it'll hit you even harder than the first one did, so two birds with one stone! Hehe, you so have to tell him that one later.

His lack of legs stump you for a moment, but then he curls the thickest part of his tail over your shoulder and twists his body sideways on the sheets. You put a hand between his shoulderblades, forcing his chest down and his abs up off the bed until you feel his slippery, puffy crotch slide against your cock.

"Okay?" you say, and yeah, that was a bit of a growl. Oops.

He curls his hand around the back of your knee, urging you forward. "One hundred million percent okay—"

You push in, and his words dissolve into a long, low rattle. It doesn't take long for you to find your rhythm again, and this time you have proper leverage for your thighs. You can go so much harder. You lean forward, bracing against his back, picking up speed, and the new angle coaxes a long, low caw from Davesprite that you feel in your guts.

Then a loop of his tail presses between your thighs, and you let out a groan of your own. You grind against it, trying to keep your strokes even, and then his tail starts moving on its own, sliding in a frictionless curl through your wet folds. The movement makes sense when you feel something thin brush your hole, and heat shoots through you. Your thrusts go a little off-tempo, and you feel Davesprite's hand slide up the back of your thigh, urging you on.

"I've got you," he gasps, voice high.

You moan back, and find your rhythm again. Every time you fuck into him, his caws wobble in the middle. It's so hot you can barely stand it, listening to your usually-guarded boyfriend go to pieces like this. It makes you fuck him faster, and his noises blend together into a long, unbroken scream. His wings spread out and his coils rub your back and thighs and his length surges inside you, and then he starts sobbing, high and desperate.

"Oh fuck Jade, Jade, it happened. It ha-a-a-ahhh—"

You should probably stop? But his length is filling you, the dildo is pounding against your clit, you are so close. You can't stop moaning.

"—Fuck me," Davesprite is saying. "Fuck me, fuck me fuck me fuckme—"

God, he's so perfect. You feel your whole body wind so tight your brain nearly panics in anticipation. And then it snaps, and you throb white-hot and come.

You manage to dismount and topple down awkwardly into a tangle of limbs and feathers and hair. Your whole body is still throbbing and tingling and your brain hasn't quite come back online. Your pussy is still clenching every now and then. You pant.

You find his hand and squeeze it tight.

"Holy fuck," he croaks. "I came twice. I didn't even know I could still. Holy fuck. Jade, you are magical. You are amazing."

"I am so gross right now," you say, giggling a little. You're so, so, so glad that you know he's this silly and sappy after he comes.

"You are not gross. These are fluids of success, let's not denigrate them."

You giggle some more. Okay, maybe you're a little silly and sappy after sex, too. He's smiling at you like he knows this.

"So, hypothesis confirmed?" You nuzzle his face. He starts preening your hair.

"I dunno, might need to do a follow up study."

You laugh and he kisses you like you gave him the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a seggquel someday.


End file.
